Some Other Influence
by Henry Townsend
Summary: Honestly I don't do well with summaries. Sorry.


Today starts out like any other day for me. Waking up in a starport, having a bit of the synthetic eggs and ham they all seem to serve. Whether it's the Russians down in the Rutena system, or the Chinese in 109 Piscium, same thing. Synthetic eggs and ham.

I sigh a melancholy sigh as I look at my watch, seeing that it's already 09:45. Most of the bounty hunters had probably got most of the criminals in this system already, so it looks like another slow day of trading. As I make my way to the Outfitting wing of the starport, I see a raggedy old beggar sitting in the hallway. I halt and drop a couple credits in his cup. At least you can't say I'm greedy, right?

When I get there,I decide to not watch the news, if you could even call it that. I'm in Achenar, which just so happens to be the capital system of the Empire, a hundred-trillion-strong clan of slave traders and propagandists that refuse to get their hands dirty unless the fight is leaning in their favor. So, mostly just a bunch of lies and fabricated heroics. I'm much more interested in my ship selection.

Should I choose my Vulture, just in case I happen upon some criminals today? I do have it outfitted for combat, after all, with a top-of-the-line class 4A Interdictor and twin Large Multicannons, but I'm just not feeling that today. As I make my way to my Type-6 Transporter for a good load of trading, I hear something on the intercom that suddenly changes my mind. "All crew of the _INS Envy_ , please report to dispatch. Dispute located at Maia. Repeat, all crew of the _INS Envy_ …"

At this my mind instantly changes. I shoot off to the side at a run to the Vulture. is about… 400 light years away? It shouldn't take too long to get there. At 14 light years per jump it should take about 29 jumps. I slap my pilot's license against the electronic turnstile, barely avoiding slamming into it with how fast I'm going. The Vulture's main access door senses me and hisses open, but not quite fast enough. The bottom of the door is just at head level, and I hit it at top speed. I find out then that doors would not make good pillows. Also, the floor of a Vulture is not a good place to take a nap. Oh well.

I dream of strange things, strange even for a space explorer. You see a lot of freaky stuff out there in the black, but the things in my dreams take on a darker, almost hostile tone. Shadows dancing in moonlit craters; a sun with a disk as large as an entire solar system; a gap in space devouring everything in its path, expanding rapidly from the center of our galaxy, an unstoppable force of hunger!

At this I blink myself awake. The sound of silence presses in on my ears, almost deafening in itself. Already the dream has faded from my memory. What had I seen that had sent me into such a terror? I could still feel it, deep in my gut. I decide it must be nothing, just a dream, and shake it off.

It was at that moment that everything from earlier came flooding back. I have to get to Maia! If I can side up with the winning faction, the combat bonds will be more than enough to A-rate my Type-6. As I go into my Galmap to plot the route, the thought pops into my head that if I used by old ASP Explorer, I could get there way faster. The last I remember, it had a good 35 light-year jump range. Should cut it down to 12 jumps. A flip of a switch later and the Vulture is clamped down again, safe from flying loose. It's a good thing I didn't go ahead and take off, then have to come back. Flight control really doesn't like that kind of stuff.

The ASP it is. As I make my way over to the docking bay that I had parked it at, a squadron of Commanders rushes past me, their white suits flashing in the fluorescent lighting. One of them bumps into me as they go, causing me to stumble. They continue on without a word. I catch the name " _Envy_ " embroidered on the Commander's suit. That won't help very much. There's probably about three hundred people that work on that ship.

Finally, to the ASP. I hardly give any attention to my surroundings as I run through the turnstile, up the stairs and into the familiar pilot's chair. A flip of a switch later and she's all powered up and ready to go. Slowly, very slowly pull up on the joystick…

Yes! As she lifts off, I smile. No more smacking into the landing pad on takeoff for me! I push the throttle bar about a quarter of the way forward to propel myself out of the station, through the mail slot, and into the black. After plotting my course to Maia, I settle in for the long haul. 14 jumps. Should take about 20 minutes. Jump, fuel scoop, star system scan, repeat.

35 minutes later and I'm making the last jump. When I drop out at the star, something seems off. There aren't any ships in supercruise. With this supposedly being a warzone, there should be people all over the place. No one. Hmm…

At first I decide to set my course to Obsidian Orbital, just to see if the star station was populated. If it happens to be empty, then something much larger is going on here. As my speed builds up, I smile as a dot appears on my radar behind me. So there are other people here! I settle back into my chair and am about to check Galnet, when all of a sudden, the whole ship lurches. I look up at the canopy to see the escape vector slip upwards and know that I'm being interdicted. I let out a sigh as I submit to the interstellar "pull-over" and cross my fingers hoping it's not some super-powerful pirate about to munch on my power core.

There's that familiar jerk as I'm pulled out of supercruise. I listen closely, counting four _thwok_ noises. Fingers crossed harder; one pirate is bad enough, four is just death waiting to happen. A few seconds later, however, I sigh in relief as the familiar Federal red color scheme and insignia come into view on two Federal Dropships. My gut tightens though when a massive Federal Corvette does a fly-by of my cockpit, spinning around to face me before stopping about a kilometer from me. The Dropships flank the Corvette, and a glance at my scanner tells me that a Federal Assault ship is behind me. I am stuck, and if they decide that I am an enemy to the Federation, I wouldn't even have time to send out a distress signal before being blasted to space rubble.

Suddenly, the comms station jumps to life, telling me that I am being hailed by Jethro Antares, Commander of the _FNS Korolev_. I hit the Accept button, pulling out a brave attempt at a smile as his dark face fills my windscreen. "Is there a problem, Commander?"

His eyes are already narrow, and this question just narrows them more. "I'm not sure… Mr. Smith? Sounds like a very generic… alias, does it not?" His obvious disregard for the title of "commander" is a spit in the face as it is, but the insult of my name is another story. If it were anyone else, in any other ship, I would have attacked.

"Actually, _Antares_ , I would think you're in the wrong. Interdicting an unwanted civilian and insulting him in his own seat, especially in a Corvette with a full wing of four, could be the start of a war, especially if I were with the Empire." I sit back, heart in my throat, hoping I hadn't gone too far. Instead of attacking, though, Antares just scowls at me.

"Just suspicious, I find, that you would be the only non-Federation craft in the system, is it not? Especially with the amount of distress signals being emitted from the Nav beacon for a second before being silenced? Is that not… crazy for you?"

I sigh quietly, trying to understand the man's English, which is obviously not his first language. How he even got to be pilot of a Corvette, I have no idea. I suddenly feel a need to just be out of this situation, so very subtly, I select Electra in my system list, getting ready to jump away in a moment. Best do it when they least expect it.

"No sir, I had no idea that was the case. In fact, I thought it weird as well that there were no other ships in supercruise, I might have noticed the signals if you hadn't pulled me out before I had a chance to see."

His face twists in anger. "Do not insult me, boy! You know nothing! We will destroy your ship and leave the wreck in space!"

I let out a small half smile. "If that were to happen, you would have a war on your hands. As it is, I doubt you could get past-" At this moment I hit the boosters, shooting straight at him, pulling up at the last second to point at Electra and jump away unharmed. I let out a whoop of exhilaration, suddenly very relieved that I wasn't floating around in the middle of nowhere.

Something suddenly seems off. I had been in Witchspace for a little too long, and I should have arrived at Electra by now. I stand up and start pacing, knowing that there is no controlling a ship in Witchspace. About ten seconds later, a warbling noise emits from the drive computer. I jump back to the chair, and the voice says urgently, "WARNING- HYPERSPACE CONDUIT UNSTABLE." I grab onto the armrests as my poor ASP, already damaged from the interdiction, starts to careen wildly. This should not be happening! We had only just learned how to use Witchspace to travel in straight lines, no one knew if it was even possible to turn.

A very unhealthy bang emits from the Frame Shift Drive and I am thrown forward into the Console as my ship is forcefully ejected out of Witchspace into normal space. To make matters worse, the computer cuts in and out as it tries to say, "Unknown systems malfunct-" and it cuts off as everything goes dark. No glowing light from the map, no ambient lamplight… no hum of life support.

I start to panic, realising that the more I breathe, the less time I have before all the oxygen is used up. Suddenly, my blood runs cold as I hear a new noise… something I hadn't ever heard before. A deep, unnatural groaning from behind. Yes, sound cannot travel in space; however, all modern pilot suits were equipped with Awareness+ modules, which somehow detect what would be noises and transmits them into the cockpit.

I freeze as an unfamiliar shape winds its way into my view from above. It seems to be a large, eight sided flower shape, but I can't really tell. There seems to be a heat mirage warping and twisting the whole thing. As it halts in front of me, everything stands still.

Out of nowhere, the ship emits a short clicking roar, and the "petals" open up to let out a green mist that falls over my ship. My chest tightens in fear as strands of green light caress my ship, emitted from the center of the flower.

Something changes. The petals slam shut, the mist disappears and the strands of light turn red. My ship comes online again as the most definitely Alien ship roars again, longer and louder. The back petals spread open and thousands of tiny specks shoot out from two sides. Not staying to watch, I select a star at random and hit the reverse boosters, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. The previously loose-looking strands stretch out until they are straight and my ship halts as if physically stopped. I cry out a prayer to whatever god there may be and hit the FSD button. Everything stretches out as usual, but as I jump, there is a terrible sound of shredding metal and everything slams to a halt and my ship is thrown spiraling through space.

I can see enough from here to tell that the specks are flying toward me at high speeds. As they get closer, I can discern that they are actually like needles, an arm's length and about as round as a space loach. They swarm forward in no set formation. The alien ship in the background just sits there, not moving at all. My Frame Shift Drive floats past my cockpit in an almost calm serenity.

I close my eyes, knowing that without the Drive, I was stuck here. The alien will kill me, there is no doubt. I calmly hit a few console commands, sending out a death notice and a distress call, hoping that someone would see what has happened here. As I hit send, the power plant fizzles out with a faint "Power fuel critic-crr-itiitiittii-"

Everything falls silent. I have no choice but to watch as the needles shred into my hull, one at a time, first at my empty fuel cell. I hold my breath, knowing that all my oxygen was rushing out into the black. A glance over my shoulder shows them going for key components, such as life support and thrusters. I guess they don't know it's all useless anyway. They all draw back and regroup into one massive spear aimed for my cargo hold, and I know that I now have no hope. At the last minute, I had picked up some mines in preparation for the battle that never was. They were stored in my hold and were designed to destroy the shields of an Anaconda. My little ASP would be no match for them.

They spiral downwards. I close my eyes as they make contact and for a split second blistering heat rolls over my back. And then, nothing.


End file.
